"… so help me, God."
"Amen," Dee intoned, her voice joined by twenty others in the small campus chapel.
Coming in late, she'd slipped into the back row, hoping to avoid recognition and for once luck was on her side. There wasn't a single staff member present. Only one face was familiar amid the congregation, and he sat three rows ahead of her, unaware of her presence.
"Now we shall sing," the dour faced Minister instructed and Dee felt around for the hymn book on the seat beside her. The congregation rose in unison and Dee with it, but the book stayed idle in her hands. The hum of muted conversation, the fluttering of pages, stark stone walls softened by a stream of yellow light flooding through the stained-glass windows all gave the impression of worshipping inside a beehive. It should have been distracting, but Dee was oblivious, caught in the grip of a remembered moment of discovery: standing with his back to her and bathed in the golden light, Billy was flicking the pages of a book she couldn't see.
His head was bowed, elbows tucked in, pulling the fabric of his pale blue shirt tight against the muscles of his back. Muscles that were engraved on her memory. Her gaze dipped to the darker blue trousers, tracing the curve of his hip and the long thighs, lingering on his taut buttocks. Her lips parted on an involuntary sigh, which was masked by the wheeze of the organ's introduction. The book trembled in her hand.
A moment later a discordant blend of voices rose around her but Dee's unfocused eyes were mesmerised by Billy's back where muscles seemed to ebb and flow like ripples on a milk-blue sea. His hair was the soft foam topping the waves, and she was floating, drifting, forgetting the deadly undertow she'd been fighting for two days.
The undertow.
She tried to focus on it.
This morning it had been a palpable entity. She'd fought it for hours, dressing and then undressing in a emotional merry-go-round of guilt and recriminations. Yet strangely, in Billy's presence, the memory of that anguish was faint, and in its place a tranquil, almost euphoric bliss permeated her body, leaving her mind free of misgivings.
Even a memory image of her husband, with his benign face and leonine mane of grey hair wouldn't appear to her. James had been gone a mere two days and was apparently forgotten. She'd remember him tomorrow when he returned, but not now. Not when she was so close to Billy.
And that was the danger, of course. The proximity. It was addictive.
This morning as she’d lingered over make-up and perfume she'd told herself she only wanted to see him out of curiosity. Not to talk, or to touch. Just to see. And she'd accomplished that, with no damage done. But to stay longer would only be inviting trouble so she glanced around. The hymn, with its ritualistic drone, was lumbering to an end. This was the time to slip out, while the congregation was reseating itself. She bent and exchanged the hymn book for her purse, pausing to smooth down her tight, white linen skirt. Then she straightened, pushing back her shoulders to resettle the matching jacket. The hand that touched her throat trembled.
Should she risk a final glance at Billy? She'd probably never have the courage to see him like this again. Just quickly, she told herself.
So for a precious few seconds she drank the perfection of his body, imprinting his physiology on her brain, trying to encapsulate the emotions his presence evoked in her. The aliveness, so like the lightning of her youth. Then the moment was over. She was about to leave but before she could move, a car backfired outside the Chapel. The congregation jumped, and Billy turned.
Instantly, as though he'd known she would be there, his eyes locked on to hers and Dee couldn't break away. The fresh bruise on his forehead caused a flicker of distraction, a moment to wonder, and then she was lost in his eyes. Murmurs of annoyance rose from the people around her at the sound of another, quieter bang before the offending vehicle roared away, but they were all peripheral. Exactly as it had been in her office with her hand in his, the totality of her being was absorbed by his presence. The nexus was upon her again and she was just as unprepared for it as she'd been the first time.
The congregation settled back into their pews and the Minister cleared his throat, but Billy didn't move, and neither could she. Her palms grew moist. She knew people were staring but she was trapped in a waking dream where she wanted to turn, wanted to run, but was unable to move. It was terrifying, and yet wonderful because underlying the superficial embarrassment she was revelling in the sensation of being hypnotised by her own desires — of being out of control. And the look in Billy's eyes sharpened her hunger.
Then it was over. The Minister's voice cut through their visual intercourse as righteously as though it were God himself speaking.
"Let us pray," he intoned, and Billy shuddered, snapping of the trance. His gaze dropped away from hers and he turned obediently back, but his shoulders remained rigid with the shock that had been written all over his face — shock, mixed with helpless desire.
Around her, people were bowing their heads, as though cowed by the Minister’s words, but Dee was experiencing a revelation. Billy couldn't challenge authority. That's why he hadn't pursued her. She was a woman he desired, but he also saw her as an authority figure, someone to obey, and that one factor created a vast shift of power in their tenuous relationship.
Except for one tragic occasion in her past, Dee had never let herself be dominated by anyone — James, the University Board, or even God himself. She'd been strong and she hadn't known it. But now she did. Her desire wasn't helpless. It was deliberate. She'd chosen to watch Billy, to fantasise about him, and now, to follow him. It had all been in her power and she could unchoose just as simply. If she wanted to.
Of course, freedom came with responsibilities, and she needed to consider the repercussions of any actions she might take. But there was no rush. James was coming home tomorrow. And besides, Billy wasn't going anywhere. He'd been smouldering along quite nicely for some time now. Another week or two wouldn't alter his feelings.
She needed to think this through first.
So not caring to wait for the end of the prayer, Dee edged past the family in her pew and stepped out into the dappled sunlight of the tree-lined carpark. There was no urgency in her now. No rush to escape.
Her black Jag waited patiently, but the thought of her empty house held no appeal. Voices from the church, now raised in song, drifted across to her and on impulse she offloaded her purse and jacket on the back seat and relocked her car.
Picking a direction, she strolled off down one of the bush paths, not for any reason other than that she simply felt like a walk. In her present mood, that was reason enough.
Taking deep lungfuls of the sweet air, still dewy and redolent with the crushed-green fragrance of decomposing leaves, she wended her way into the native forest. Cooler air touched her bare arms and budded her nipples into prominence, creating a delicious abrasion as the sheer silk of her camisole top adjusted to the movements of her body. Her breasts themselves, although not large, felt heavy and sensual.
She became aware of herself in a way she'd long forgotten. The gentle swaying of her hips as she strolled along and the rubbing of her inner thighs created a tingle that wormed its way upwards through her body like little internal fingers stroking her skin from the inside. She ached to be out of her clothes, to lie naked and still in the sun. Then to glide through silk-smooth water, feeling it caress her like a lover. A lover who would know how to please her.
She smiled, hugging her shoulders, feeling inordinately strong. That lover was herself. She'd do all those things later when she returned to the privacy of her home, but for the moment she was content simply to walk a while longer.
In the deepest section, where the sunlight was all but blocked out but the thick eucalypt canopy she paused to breathe the fragrance of a gum blossom, fingering the hard nut case that housed the delicate puff of yellow strands. It was sweet, almost cloying, and she closed her eyes the better to capture the scent. But as she opened them again, her eye caught a large brownish shape moving in the underbrush a few metres away.
A wombat? She'd never heard of one in the campus grounds before, but the movement she'd seen had been nothing like the lope of a koala or the scurry of a possum.
Leaving the track, she ducked under a branch, her high heels spiking into the leaf-litter as she skirted a pair of eucalypts to reach the bracken fern under which the shape had disappeared. Cautiously she reached forward and lifted a frond, then screamed in shock as a large, ugly feral cat poised to spring at her. It hissed loudly but Dee was already back-peddling, slamming into the tree and making loud fear-noises as the animal bolted in the opposite direction.
She was winded, panting, but trying to quieten down when Billy appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her shoulders. She screamed again.
"Dr Williams. It's me. Billy," he was saying, staring into her wild eyes, looking almost as frightened as she was. "Did something hurt you? Are you all right?"
Her breath came in short gasps and she couldn't think how to answer him. Her knees were buckling and he was leaning in to support her — then she smelt him, the fresh, golden smell that drifted off his skin and the decision was out of her hands. She plastered her body against his, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him, letting him taste the fierce emotions swirling inside her.
She'd remember later that there was no hesitation on his part, as though he'd been ready for anything she might do. But at the time she was only aware of him kissing her back, groaning against her lips, his body — the body she'd imprinted in her brain — imprinting itself against hers.
It was pagan, almost brutal the way she groped at him, without finesse, and she was on fire with it. Her hands were on his shoulders, then in his hair, cradling his head, holding it so she could plunder his mouth. And she felt his big hands on her back through the cool silk, pressing her against the length of him.
His erection was hard against her belly and she longed to touch it, to touch and taste every part of him. She was delirious with greed, wanting all of him now, but not wanting to move away from the mouth that was giving her so much pleasure.
And yet she did. She pulled back and leant against the tree, panting, her hands on his chest, her eyes meeting the bewilderment in his. "Kiss me, Billy," she said. "Kiss me and touch me the way you've been wanting to."
He shook his head slightly, seeming to come out of it, but Dee merely grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged. "Anything you want. Everything you've desired," she promised, her voice husky with her own needs. His gaze moved to her lips and so she licked them provocatively. But it was her hair he touched first, his eyes going wide with wonder, then closing in a sort of primitive ecstasy as the long strands slid through his fingers.
"Do you like my hair, Billy," she whispered, straining to keep herself still as he explored its softness and texture. "What else do you like?"
She watched his face, eyes still closed as his hands drifted down from her hair to her shoulders, then eased down to cover her breasts. She could feel the slightly rough grain of his skin through the silk and it drove her mad with its gentleness. Her own hands released his shirt and kneaded the firm flesh of his chest, rubbing her thumbs over his nipples until they too were erect. She wanted him to mirror her action but he was content merely to rest his palms over her breasts.
That wasn't enough. Blood pounded inside her temples, driving her, inciting her, and she pushed her breasts against his passive hands. Dizzying pleasure spiralled through her then like nothing she'd ever experienced, and in that moment she knew they'd make love. No analysis. No moral considerations. Only lust and fulfilment.
Her hands on his chest moved downwards, pressing hard against him, feeling the muscles tense. She was breathing heavily, watching his closed eyes as she slid one of her hands down past the belt at his waist to cover his erection, grasping it firmly through the fabric of his trousers.
His eyes snapped open then and stared into hers, his fingers squeezing convulsively over her breasts as he groaned. Dee felt warm stickiness against her hand.
Her eyes must have widened. She must have evinced surprise. Her experiences with James had been the polar opposite of this… enthusiasm. But in her shock she hadn't time to articulate her thoughts. She merely stood there, her hand falling away as they stared at each other.
And Billy took her silence as a condemnation. He turned away from her and crashed blindly through the undergrowth before she could think to stop him. Perhaps she should have called after him — should have tried to reassure him. But she closed her eyes and leant back against the tree, listening to the sounds of his distress as he ran from her. Her breaths were deep and even now, her mind clear.
Had Billy not run away, she would have lain on the forest floor and made love to him. She would have committed adultery. And she yet would. In her mind, the deed was as good as done and the guilt already laid to rest. She'd have to be careful, but James need never know.
After all, a sexual relationship with Billy couldn't go anywhere. Someone of her own rank might be a threat to her marriage, but not Billy. The revelation she'd experienced earlier had shown her what she wanted from him. Sex and control. She might feel compassion for him, but there was no companionship, no meeting of the minds. Take away the sex and they'd having nothing in common. But Dee didn't intend to take away the sex. She was going to wallow in it.
The next morning James arrived back but Dee barely noticed, filled as she was with the euphoria of her own desires. Her hair was down, literally now, and she took to wearing no underwear. Whether the people around her discerned any change in her behaviour was unimportant. She was too engrossed in her seduction of Billy to care.
Within a week she'd managed three 'connections'. Once after a lecture, there'd been a split second behind the stage curtain where she'd brushed her lips against his and rested a hand over the bulging erection straining his jeans. A couple of afternoons later she'd found him watching her in the cafeteria, and had licked and tongued her icecream with such blatantly sensuality, she'd excited herself probably more than she had him.
Then, there was the pool. She'd known it was his afternoon for swim training, and had secreted herself in the nearby bushes to watch him with binoculars. When she'd arrived, his team-mates had been leaving the pool, all apparently worn out, yet Billy continued to lap, seemingly effortlessly, for a further quarter hour. Then he'd levered himself out.
Water had dripped from his hair, and his skin had been tinted by the late afternoon light, giving him the appearance of a great golden otter. He'd shook the water off himself, then glanced over his shoulder with a furtive, hunted look. Dee had known then that she'd do something reckless.
She'd followed him into the empty change-rooms, ignoring his stuttered protests as she pulled him into a cubicle and pushed him back against the door, already panting with the desire to have him. And he'd simply stared at her, that helpless desire in his eyes that she found impossible to resist.
She'd drawn out the moment as long as she could, but it was probably only a couple of seconds before she'd thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his mouth down to meet hers.
His hands had hung limply at his sides, as though he were fighting her passively, but it only lasted a matter of seconds. Then he'd groaned and pulled her close, kissing her back, frantic to take whatever she was offering, as though frightened it wouldn't last.
And it hadn't.
Although to be fair to him, it would have lasted longer if she hadn't provoked him. But she had, slowing the kiss from brutal to voluptuous as she'd moved in on him, pressing her belly into his heavy erection and grinding against it in slow, circular movements. She'd known he'd be helpless to prevent his ejaculation, and exactly as before he'd been embarrassed and ashamed by its prematurity.
But Dee had kissed him sweetly and told him she'd done it deliberately to excite herself, and not to worry. She'd promised him that when the time came for them to make love, he'd be fine.
Then she'd slipped away unseen but the look of shock on Billy's face as she'd said the words, "when we make love," had stayed with her a long time. It made her wonder where he'd thought their relationship was leading, if not towards sex.